This is Your Universe
by OccasionallyCreative
Summary: What is love to a monster born from obsession? [Frankenstein AU]
1. An Agreement Between Lord and Master

_**Author's Note: **__This is inspired by a prompt sent to me by icequeenforlife, who requested Frankenstein!Sherlolly. Warning though: this fic involves angst and stuff that isn't so nice. (Warnings will be put up accordingly.)_

_Aside from that, I hope you enjoy the fic, and don't forget to let me know what you think._

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**_An Agreement Between Lord and Master._**

Rain lashed at his feet, but it felt like nothing more than a cool breeze against his haggard limbs. For more than a year, he had been a wanderer around the world, forced blinking into the sunlight by the man who dared to call himself his creator. Was he not a man? With every look, every insult, every assault he endured, that had been the question which haunted him. If man did indeed create himself in his own image, then surely he was nothing but a reflection, destined to disappear at the whim of his master. No more; he would be master of his own fate from this day forward.

He would run no longer. No—from this day, he would be at peace. From this day, his reflection would be his own. He would be once again… pure.

* * *

He found the man—his _creator—_in a shack, tucked away from the harsh storm beneath the cliffs. A fire was burning brightly in the grate, but the room still felt cold. The tools and trinkets with which his master had created him were laid out on the workshop table. A smile flicked across his lips as his fingers played and stroked at the implements which had brought him life.

From behind, he heard a sound; one he'd grown used to. The sound of a pistol being cocked. He wasted no time. Spinning around on his heel, he knocked the gun out of his master's hands and grabbed at his master's throat. His master struggled, but he only let out a short laugh, pinning him against the wall.

"You have corrupted me, Frankenstein," he hissed. "My mind works faster than any man's."

It was true. Over and over, day after day, his brain clicked and whirred with new and fresh thoughts, never stopping and never dying for eternity.

Victor dared to laugh. "You are a monster. You cannot have thoughts."

"There's a surgical knife to your right, within range. You've eyed it twice before now, when you believed I wasn't looking. You plan to goad me, and make me attack you again in order for you to secretly gain access to the knife before you reach up and slice across my jugular. But now you've used this moment of my speaking to pick up the knife anyway." He gripped Victor's shirt tighter and pulled him closer. "Drop it."

The knife fell to the floor with a clatter. His master was almost pale with shock. It was laughable.

"What do you want of me?"

"You have defied nature by creating me. Defy her again. Make me a mate. A companion, to fill this empty life."

For a long time, his master considered him and his request. "I shall not. Monsters such as you deserve to be destroyed; not _loved._"

He growled and threw his master to the ground, crouching over him. How dare his master presume to consider him lower than himself? He was a man. He _was_. Did not any man deserve—nay _need_—love? Companionship? In his travels, he had acquired the skills to read, to speak, to write, to think and to learn but love… that was a knowledge he had yet to absorb; an experience he had yet to endure. He knew the reason why. No ordinary woman would love him. He needed another mind, a superior mind like his, one that could connect and meld with his thoughts.

Slowly and deliberately, his fingers slid around the slimy sweaty neck of Victor Frankenstein. "My master," he said. "You once believed me to deserve life; you could at least recompense me with this task."

His master choked under the force of his grip. He tightened it.

"I will cause no more destruction, Frankenstein. Agree to my demands, and my bride and I shall live away from this place in peace. We will not seek you out; it will be as if we have never spoken. Now… do you agree?"

"Yes," Victor forced out. He smiled, and his grip gradually loosened.

He smiled as lightning flashed through the window of the shack once again. "I will give you three months. Do not fail."


	2. A Meeting of Two Minds

_**A Meeting of Two Minds.**_

His mind raced, but time did not. The three months continued to crawl past, no matter how much he would will them to move faster. It was a small source of comfort for him, as he watched his master create again through the grimy windows of that same workshop he himself had been born in, to know what lay just beyond the end of those long months. At last, he would feel what had eluded him for his time on this godforsaken earth. Warmth, love, and most of all, companionship.

If anyone asked him why he desired a companion so, he would not—could not—give them an answer. Not a definitive one. All he knew was that when he saw those other men, in their homes with wives who smiled when their men looked at them, and children who laughed when in the arms of the woman who had birthed them, he felt a pain. A deep yet hollow pain that echoed, unendingly, inside his chest.

The only cure was to love.

* * *

He waited until midnight of the 28th day of the fourth week of the third month. As soon as the village clock's chimes echoed through the dark, he wasted no time and threw open the door to his master's workshop.

Three months had affected Victor Frankenstein. His eyes were gleaming, but his skin was sallow, his frame weak. Clearly, he had neither eaten nor slept, his mind fixated on the one thing his creature had demanded from him. He stepped forward towards his creator, eyes dark.

"My bride. Where is she?"

On hearing him speak, Victor's head snapped up. There was a glimmer of manic fear in his eyes, but it flicked away when his gaze moved back to the sheet-covered body that lay on his worktable.

"Here," was all that Victor managed to say. Ignoring his creator's self-absorbed awe, he moved forward towards the table, with his gaze locked on the covered body all the while. From what he could see, the body was small in shape, without any obvious curves—a vivid contrast to his own towering stature. His fingers delicately traced the hem of the white sheet that covered her.

"Let me see her," he said quietly, but there was no reply. He looked straight to Victor, and he cracked a smile.

"Don't try to refuse. You're practically begging for someone to see her. _So_ _show me_."

He watched as slowly, and with a short but melancholy sigh, Victor pulled back the sheet to reveal her. Smile widening, he gazed at her naked form. She was indeed a petite creature, with small hips and breasts. Her hair, the shade of honey brown, was long and curled around her shoulder, matted into tight tangles and knots and her pale, pale skin… It bore the same scars as his, but they were lighter, less obvious.

Where he was an experiment, she was a masterpiece.

Carefully, he raised his hand and reached towards her face. He had to touch her; see if she was truly real—if this wasn't merely his mind trapping him inside an all too sweet dream. He barely had to touch the surface before her eyelids snapped open, revealing two deep pools of brown, warm and inviting. A jagged gasp shot from her throat as she took her first breath and her hand shot out, only to grasp at the rough cloth of his shirt.

"Who…" she croaked, her body flinching with life. Cries of pain poured from her. He glared towards Victor.

"Leave!"

His creator—their creator—made no attempt to obey, lips wide in a smile that betrayed the ecstasy he felt. The sight stirred him into movement. Lips curled into a snarl, he advanced on his creator, her cries of pain pounding in his eyes. Victor's laughter was high and cold; a mark of the insanity that clouded him.

His mind however, was not so clouded. He clenched at the scruff of Victor's neck and pulled him away from her, throwing him to the ground as if he were nothing more than a dog.

"Leave, Frankenstein, LEAVE! There is nothing for you here! _GO!_" When his creator still made no attempt to obey his commands, he pulled him to his feet and together, they moved towards the door of the shack; where Victor stumbled, he walked. Wrenching open the door, he threw Victor into the dark and the rain and shoved the door closed.

There was a moment of silence as he turned back to face his bride. Her pain had ceased for now, but her body was now curled into a tight ball and her fingers were buried in her hair as she rocked back and forth, tears coming hard and fast from the warm pools that made up her eyes. He moved towards her.

"Bride…" he said, voice faltering. Her head snapped up, and for the first time, he saw the fear in her eyes. It dimmed a little as she focused on him.

"Who…" she repeated, voice strangled. Slowly, he stepped towards her, waiting for her to speak again. Eventually, her heavy breathing slowed.

"Who am I?" she said softly as she continued to rock back and forth.

"We—we are one and the same," he said, moving closer still. She made no sound, gave no indication that she found him harmful in any way. She only frowned, confused by his words. He felt himself smile. "As you are me… I am you."

His hand gently palmed at her naked stomach. The calmness she had once displayed left her, and in its place came fear. Giving out another strangled cry, she scrambled away from him, curling her legs underneath her chin. Her entire body shook as the thunder of the storm rolled overhead. All that came from her lips was a single question.

"Who… am I? Who… am I?"

For the first time in his life, he felt helpless. He had never had to care for another like him; he had only ever been made to fend for himself. During those three long months, he had hoped and longed for his bride. But he hadn't dared hope for something like this; something—someone—so fragile, or who needed him so much.

His body worked faster than his thoughts. Seeing her shivering and naked body, he removed his shirt. Her eyes focused on him again; on his scars. And as he cautiously crept towards her, her eyes widened until only a thin line of brown surrounded her swollen pupils. Dilation.

She eyed the weather-beaten shirt with curiosity, but didn't take it.

"It will… it will make you warm," he explained, hesitant even in his words. After a moment however, and with her eyes locked on his, she reached out a hand and took the shirt from him.

Was this love, he wondered as he watched the fabric slip over her nude body. Was this need to protect and cherish her really what he hoped for all these months? If it was, he found that he didn't necessarily mind. He only wished he could make her happy.

The storm had abated now, and the soft orange glow of sunrise peeked over the horizon. A boyish grin crossed his face. She must see a sunrise. She had to.

"Come, come!" he said quickly to her, grabbing her hand. "You must see!"

Her eyes narrowed. She was still suspicious of him. Yet she made no attempt to pull away from him; instead, she stepped off the table and followed him as he steered the both of them towards the window. The boyish grin widened as she crouched down beside him. He pointed eagerly to the rising sun.

A gasp of surprise escaped her and she lifted her head slightly, peeking out through the window at the fierce orange sky. But whereas she was fixated on the sky, he was fixated on her. He noticed everything; saw every little detail about her. He saw how her tangled curls floated down to the small of her back in waves; how her fingertips, pressed tightly against the window's edge, turned white; how her eyes seemed to shine with the sunlight; and how her mouth twisted into an entranced smile as she continued to watch the sunrise.

When he touched at her again, she did not cry out. Nor did she flinch. His smile widened a little more as he gently caressed her back. Finally, she turned her gaze away from the sun. He saw now that there were tears in her eyes. Happy ones.

"Do you love me?"

She swallowed slightly before she answered; the words were still foreign to her newborn tongue. "I love you as I love the sun."

Her voice was nothing more a soft melody, fragile in its resonance. And as he heard her speak, his smile changed from that of a boy to a gentler, tenderer smile of a man and he stroked at her cheek.

"Then you will be my companion," he said, and taking hold of her hand, he pressed it to his chest whilst his own hand moved to press over hers. A light laugh left her as they felt one another's heartbeats. He himself, with her heartbeat beating underneath the palm of his hand, began to feel the warmth that he had so longed for.

Here, with her, was where he belonged. He knew that now.

And it was a knowledge that would never leave him.

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**_A massive thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited and reviewed this fic so far. I'm so sorry for such a long wait for this update; hopefully, the next update shouldn't take so long!_**


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